Marry me. "You two will have this island by the ears," he said, wiping his eyes. You know the sort of thing. Gerald stayed him. And, though neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers.
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